2nd Series 02/6 - Off And Running
by Macx
Summary: Without his memory, Ace finds himself the target of a killer he doesn't know, in a town he has never heard of...


  
**Off and Running**   
by Birgit Staebler   
mac@robyn.rhein-neckar.de

It was a beautiful autumn day and the sun was casting its golden rays over the glistening, calm surface of the Bay Lake. Electro City, one of the world's largest and most modern cities, sat like a huge, silver, futuristic creature on the shore of the large lake, gleaming and clean to the naked eye. The docks were quiet this late in the afternoon on a Sunday. No ships were coming in right now, though Electro City never slept. The main bulk of freight was handled further down the quay at the newer docks and the older area had been turned into a storage ground for mostly private tenants. No one was here after the main rush was over.   
A non-descript, creme colored car was parked next to an old freight crane with flaking colors. The driver was a man in his late forties or early fifties, with white hair, dark brown eyes and a white, full beard. He was dressed in non-descript clothes covered by a dark overcoat. The other man was younger, with black hair, which showed white streaks at his temples and a white lock on his forehead, dressed in a shirt and dark pants. A concealing cloak finished the stylish ensemble.   
"Thanks for driving me over, Vega," Ace Cooper said with a smile.   
The older man, Lieutenant Derek Vega, sighed. "Hey, no problem. Need help?"   
Ace shook his head, his strikingly light grayish-blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think I can check on the stored stuff alone. I just want to make sure everything is in order. Ever since Paul went on his vacation, we keep having a mix-up." He shrugged.   
Vega understood his friend. Paul McDonaghue was Ace's equipment manager. He was one of the most capable people Vega had ever met. Nothing slipped by the mid-fortyish Canadian and he organized all the equipment for each of Ace's shows. It took a load off the shoulders of Ace and Cosmo, because even though Ace liked to be part of every bit of his show, from backstage to the actual performance, of course, he couldn't do everything. The stage hands varied from season to season, though they were almost always the same people coming back each year, but Paul was a stationary object as it seemed. Now he was off on a four-week trip through the Southwest and things had come into slight disorder. Ace had decided to check on the new equipment and Vega had happened to come by the Magic Express as his friend had been about to leave.   
Now Ace slipped out of the car and walked over to the warehouse. Vega watched his friend until he had disappeared in the shadow of the next building -- literally disappeared. The detective grimaced. Ace was a magician in every sense of the word. His powers weren't just illusion, they were real. He had seen them at the works before. Checking his weapon he kept an eye on everything out here, alert for suspicious movements or concealed men. It was instinct, one he couldn't shed for even a second, and the warehouse area was prone to break-ins anyway. Not that anyone could use magic equipment anyway, but you never knew what was stored in the other buildings.   
The lake glittered in the late afternoon sun, a boat passed by, the engine the only sound besides the surf. It was eerily silent.

*

On top of one of the other buildings crouched a shadowy, lithe figure. It was dressed in a skin-tight, black suit, the face covered by a total mask, the eyes covered by   
red inserts into the mask. A long, tail-like attachment to the head trailed down the definitely female body.   
"Oh, welcome, Ace, my darling," she purred. "Walk right in. You are *quite* welcome."

*

Ace Cooper entered the warehouse after entering the security code and looked around. Large shelves reach up to the ceiling, containing various parts for Ace's shows, old and new, as well as other stuff. Everything was very quiet and only the surf could be heard from a distance. He walked down an aisle, checking on some of the large boxes, noting they were actually stored in order and contained what he needed for the new show he had planned to start next month. From the sound and strong smell of it he was right above the lake. Part of the warehouse was built on poles, which stood directly in the water. A large window gave him a good view of Bay Lake.   
His instincts tingled softly.   
Ace stopped and frowned. He was alone in here, not even a watchman present -- they usually made their rounds every hour on the hour -- but something told him he wasn't alone. He looked around.   
"Vega?" he asked.   
"You disappoint me, Cooper," a voice suddenly echoed around him. "I thought you were more of a gentleman."   
Ace whirled around, eyes scanning the semi-dark interior of the building. That voice....   
"Do you think of me as an aging cop?" the voice taunted.   
"Faceless," he whispered.   
"Don't tell me you are surprised, Cooper," Faceless laughed, stalking closer. Her movements were silent, lithe, predatory....   
"What do you want?"   
"You," she answered with an audible smirk.   
"I'm honored," Ace replied.   
"You should be. Not every thief would take out his greatest pain-in-the-neck personally." She laughed nastily.   
"Aren't you overestimating yourself?" Ace asked levelly.   
"Or are you underestimating me, my dear magician?" She extended her long talons. "This time, there is no escape!"   
She lunged.   
Ace flung himself out of the way and heard her claws slash empty air. Faceless hissed and went after him. The long tail at the back of her head lashed out and he instinctively raised his staff to parry it -- which was a mistake. The staff was ripped out his hands and she laughed wildly, attacking him again. Ace moved back, but he wasn't fast enough for the martial arts trained woman. She feigned an attack with his staff, then delivered a roundhouse kick that crashed into his temple with the force of an oncoming truck.   
Pain exploded in his head as it was whipped around and Ace saw stars explode in front of his eyes. The force of the kick drove him backwards, his back connecting with the grimy window. He was in shocking pain, unable to move, to react. He heard a metallic ring and felt himself falling, toppling.   
The last thing he consciously heard was the breaking of glass, then there was only cold nothingness, as if his whole being had just been vaporized.

*

Vega had started running for the building the moment he had realized that it was a trap. A trap for Ace. He cursed softly and entered the warehouse. He was sneaking down an aisle when he discovered Ace. He was close to a large window and there was someone Vega recognized only too well slashing at him. Faceless! She attacked the magician repeatedly and suddenly kicked him hard in the head. As if in slow motion Vega saw Ace being thrown backwards by the impact of her foot against his head. He fell into the window, which broke under his impact and disappeared from sight.   
"Ace!" the lieutenant cried.   
Faceless used this moment to dodge between two shelves and disappear. Vega had momentarily forgotten about her, but when a shuriken hit a crate right beside him, he went for cover. Cautiously he peered over the rim of the crate he had taken cover behind. No sign of her. He was just about to run toward the window to look for his friend when the window beside the door splintered under the impact of a small object. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he recognized what it was that now lay only a few feet away from him.   
Grenade.   
Run! his mind screamed and he ran for his cover again.   
There was an explosion.   
A wave of heat and flames threw him into a bundle of nets and boat covers.   
Then there was only darkness.

*

The second he broke through the surface of the water, his senses went on overload. Everything around him was icy cold, wet and numbingly dark. His head hurt viciously and his eyes were unable to fix on anything. He fought to the surface, gasping for air, his head exploding in unbearable pain. He tried to stay conscious, fighting with all his strength, too stubborn to give in. The surf of the lake washed over him, trying to drown him. He swam against the waves, survival instincts taking over. Something passed through his line of view. Something big. He heard a low, rumbling noise, like a large engine. A round, black object passed by. His mind made a connection between the round object and rescue and his hands reached out to grab it. He was pulled along with the ship he was clinging to.   
Get aboard, his mind screamed and slowly, very slowly he was able to climb aboard. He fell over the railing, gasping still, his head swimming. Nausea washed over him and he groaned. He was falling deeper and deeper into the velvety blackness of unconsciousness and he had no will left to fight it.   
Behind him, part of the warehouse collapsed in a small explosion of dust and wood.

*

Faceless emotionlessly watched as the front part of the warehouse crumbled like a card house. The grenade had been very effective, she mused, though she didn't like it as a weapon. Too crude. No finesse.   
She walked over to the pier, not minding the slightly smoking ruin. There were no flames. Cooper had to be dead, but she couldn't be sure. It wouldn't be the first time that a victim had made a miraculous escape. Human nature had an uncanny survival instinct. A boat passed by the warehouse -- and hanging on to an old tire was a man.   
"Cooper!" she hissed.   
The magician climbed laboriously aboard the ship, then collapsed.   
"Magic 4," Faceless read the name of the ship. "I'll find you."   
In the distance she could hear sirens. Someone had called the police.

* * *

The Magic 4 left Electro City harbor and set course for Lighthouse Cove, its home. Susan McNeil steered the little ship expertly through the waters of the lake and only once glanced at the sea chart. She knew her way home by heart, since she did this tour once a week, maybe twice. She owned a small delivery service, which did deliveries or pick-ups for people. This time she had picked up some things for an old friend, whose boat had broken down and still needed repairs. Since the only place where he could get the missing parts was the large harbor shop in Electro City, Susan had volunteered to get them for him, in exchange for a few favors on his part. That's how things went in Lighthouse Cove. The little town had barely one hundred inhabitants and it wasn't as high-tech as Electro City, but they got by and it was a homely community. They made their money selling the rare Bay Lake Lobsters to exclusive restaurants in Electro City, a kind of lobster that only lived in their area.   
It would be early morning tomorrow when she reached the waters of the small town and she switched on her position lights because it was already getting dark. It had been a long day and it would be an equally long night. Her boat wasn't the fastest and she couldn't race home.   
A noise made her flinch and she strained her ears. Was something wrong with the engines? Please, god, no. Not in the middle of the lake! The noise repeated itself, but this time she could be sure it had nothing to do with the engine. It sounded more like something heavy falling around on deck. She had nothing heavy stored on deck......   
Carefully, she turned down the engine until she was creeping along on the water, and listened. The surf was softly beating against the boat's hull. The engine gave off some low rumbling sounds. There! Again. It sounded like heavy footsteps. Fear gripped her and she reached out for a crowbar she always kept close by. Being the only one aboard this ship, and female, too, was sometimes dangerous when you got into the wrong company. Until now she had been quite well able to handle herself. She was the widow of Zachary Scott McNeil and everybody who had tried to mess with her had been shown she was no one to be easily messed with, especially since the deceased husband had trained her in self-defense. She might be 49, but she was still fit enough to hit an attacker where it hurt the most.   
The door to the steering house opened and she tensed, slowly turning, crowbar in hand. A man leaned at the door's frame. He was clad in wet looking clothes and the left side of his face was covered with blood, which was flowing copiously out of a head wound. One hand clutched the door handle, the other one the door's frame for support. He was dark-haired, with white streaks on the side of his head and a white lock, his eyes a kind of light grayish blue.   
She lifted the crowbar like a sword.   
"Help me, please," the man whispered, voice wobbly.   
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" she demanded, pleased to hear that her voice was not wavering.   
A pair of confused eyes looked at her. "I ... I don't know, " he stuttered, taking a step forward.   
"Stay where you are!" she commanded, brandishing the crowbar in front of her. It wasn't the first time someone mimicked an injury to enter a small boat and then rob it.   
"Please," he whispered, sounding pathetic and weak. "I don't want to hurt you."   
Somehow, she didn't know why, she believed him. But a small voice inside of her warned her. He could be dangerous after all.   
"I'll make sure of that," she replied. "How did you get aboard?" she asked again.   
"I ...." He blinked a few more times, swaying badly, then slid down the door frame, slumping into the corner.   
Susan looked indecisively at the motionless figure. Water pooled on the floor, dripping out of his clothes. She should call for help. But she couldn't. The two-way radio was down and she needed more than just good will and chewing gum to repair it. Her technical skills were good for someone who hadn't been born a trawler owner. She could repair lots of the minor things, but try working a radio when the essential parts were missing or had been substituted with a bunch of whatever-it-was. She definitely needed a new radio and that was what she was to get in exchange for delivering the promised cargo. It had been a stupid and dangerous idea to go out with a broken radio, but .... she hadn't imagined something like this to happen. It wasn't normal to find bleeding and wet stowaways on the boat.   
Cautiously, she walked over. "Hello?" she asked.   
The man didn't move.   
She knelt down, touching his shoulder.   
Again no reaction.   
She turned his face so she could look at him. There was a long, nasty gash on his left temple, which was still bleeding sluggishly, but had spread lots of blood all over his face before. There was blood on his white shirt, too. He was clad in dark pants and a matching jacket, as well as black boots. He looked quite handsome under all that blood, she decided, then gave herself a mental slap. Right, that's the way to look at him. He was an uninvited guest, maybe dangerous, and she was contemplating his looks.   
Susan took out her handkerchief and pressed it down on the head wound. She was no doctor, neither had she more than rudimentary knowledge in first aid. She'd have to get him to Lighthouse Cove for medical treatment.

* * *

It was already getting dark.   
Derek Vega leaned against his car, an ice bag pressed against his head. He had one hell of a headache from a collision with the shelf and there was a dark bruise forming on his forehead already. Luckily it was only that, not some broken bones. He had been rescued by a team from the fire brigade, which had arrived first, closely followed by the police. He had been partly buried, since a shelf had fallen onto him. The fire brigade had freed him and then the paramedics had taken charge of what to do next. Vega knew he'd be bruised all over the next day.   
Now he was watching a team of police specialists rummage through the ruin of the warehouse, while the fire brigade was just leaving. It had been pure luck that the warehouse had not burned down -- with him inside. If there had been any explosives stored inside the warehouse, maybe then he'd be Up There, harp in hand. Or Down Below, he mused with a wry smile crossing his lips. Either way, he was damn lucky to have survived the experience.   
The paramedic, who had treated him, finished packing his bag. "You're fine, but you should see your doctor some time. You have a slight concussions and a few abrasions."   
"Yeah," Vega waved him off. "I'm okay, I'm okay."   
The paramedic shrugged, then trooped off. Vega returned his gaze back to the warehouse. On the lake, a boat of the water police was searching Bay Lake for a body.   
Ace.   
Vega winced as he remembered how the magician had been thrown backwards by the shot, breaking through the window.   
One of the rubber clad men with the oxygen tanks came up a ladder and handed them a wet something.   
Part of Ace's cloak.   
A cold feeling spread inside him. No, Vega decided, I won't believe him dead. Not until I see a body. The thought of seeing Ace's dead body made him sick.   
One of his men took the cloth and looked at it. It was soggy and stained, but it was unmistakably from Ace's cloak. Vega looked into the muddy waters of the lake. He didn't dare to let the hope that Cooper had survived the kick, the fall and the cold water rise further than a few inches. He just didn't dare, but it would need hard evidence, like a body, to convince him he was dead for sure.   
"Anything else?" he finally asked the diver, his voice emotionlessly flat.   
The man shook his head. "There isn't much light down here and it might take some time. But the currents are not very strong, so he's either here or he surfaced somewhere else." With that he swam back to the others.   
The officer, Sam Jackson, watched as Vega fingered the wet cloak, still staring at the water, completely lost in whatever dark thoughts he contemplated.   
"Friedrichs wants a full report on what happened, Lieutenant," Jackson finally said calmly, interrupting the train of thought Vega was in.   
"Yeah," was all he said, then turned abruptly and walked back to his car.   
"Damn, I hope he survived the whole mess," another officer muttered, watching Vega retreat, then turning back to the divers. "Would be a damn shame."   
Jackson only nodded. Yeah, it would be a damn shame -- and a big loss.   
Vega was on his way back to his car when a horde of reporters swarmed toward him.   
"Lieutenant, what happened?" Paparazzo asked, thrusting a microphone under his nose.   
"Was it an accident or the work of terrorists?" another man called.   
"Who are you searching for?"   
Vega waved them off. "No comment," was all he said, then got into his car, placing Ace's dripping wet cloak onto the passenger seat.   
The reporters, like a flock of vultures, searched for a new victim and found it in form of Detective Jackson. Vega smiled grimly and started his car. He had to go back to the precinct.

* * *

"She failed. Again." Clockwise's voice held a note of disdain.   
Blackjack, one of the most powerful figures in Electro City's underworld, looked at him a look of angry annoyance. "Meddling woman!" he hissed. "I told her to stay out of my business and Ace Cooper is my business! Spade, Diamond!" he barked.   
The two henchmen stepped forward. "Yes, boss?" Diamond asked.   
"Find Cooper!"   
"But... no one knows where he is. The police searched the lake and couldn't even find a body. He could be dead."   
Blackjack snarled. "Cooper doesn't die that easily," he hissed. "He is resilient and it takes more than a kick to the head to bring him down."   
The underworld boss had his informants everywhere and he knew what Vega had reported in. He knew Cooper had been beaten by Faceless, but he had disappeared in the cold waters of the lake, not resurfaced. In his eyes, the magician was still alive. It truly took much more to kill him.   
"Find him!" he ordered once more.   
Spade and Diamond left.   
"He is alive," Blackjack muttered to himself. "But only until I find him....."

* * *

The Magic 4 arrived one hour after sunrise. Susan steered the small, former trawler to its anchor place. As the ship slowly crept through the various anchored ships, she now and then stole a glance at her guest. The man hadn't woken while she had carried him over to her bunk, stripped him of the heavy, damp clothes and cleaned his head wound. The wound wasn't bad, though it looked like it had bled copiously, staining his shirt. She didn't think he would need stitches. While undressing him, she had contemplated who he might be. She hadn't seen him at the harbor where she had anchored and from his looks she didn't think he was a dock worker. The clothes didn't fit and a quick checking of his hands told her he might be used to heavy work, but the hands were too smooth and slender to be the one of a dock worker. Maybe he was another fisherman who had fallen off his boat. Then again, he didn't appear like that either.   
Susan had tugged him into a blanket, bandaging the wound and hanging his clothes beside the oven. She had noticed that there were a few scars on his body and she wondered where they came from. One was a rather large one on his left thigh, the others were on his shoulder and back. Apparently he had had nasty encounters before. She couldn't do anything else -- except watch out if he came around to make trouble.   
He was stirring slightly, his eyelids fluttering, when she arrived at her anchor place. A slight moan escaped his lips. Susan gripped the crowbar again, not taking any unnecessary risks. She was alone here and he was a stranger, who had entered her boat. He opened his eyes and blinked, staring at the ceiling above, then at the blanket covering him. Finally he turned his head and looked at her. Susan looked right into two strikingly grayish-blue eyes.   
"I'm not used to stowaways on my ship," she said brusquely as an introduction, part of her attention on where she was steering the ship. "And if we hadn't been in the middle of the lake, I would have thrown you over board."   
"Oh," was all he said, then sat up slowly, clutching the blanket. He grimaced, screwing his eyes shut, and gingerly touched his head. Susan guessed that he had one hell of a headache. "I'm glad you didn't do it," he then said, carefully rubbing his head. "I don't think I can swim that far."   
"What were you doing on my boat?"   
His eyes traveled from the crowbar to her face and he wrinkled his brow a bit, though it meant pain again.   
"I don't know. Please.... I ... I won't hurt you....," he said slowly, his voice a bit unstable. He pointed at the crowbar.   
"We'll see about that," she answered, then her expression softened a bit as he put his head in his hands, moaning again.   
"Want some coffee? It might taste a bit like ship's fuel, but you look like you could use some."   
"You don't happen to have some tea?" he asked, head still buried. "Somehow I don't feel like coffee...."   
Susan was surprised. "Tea?" she echoed. "No, sorry."   
"It's okay. Where am I?" he then asked, looking up.   
"This is the Magic 4," she answered, gesturing at the cabin and the ship as such with the crowbar. "My ship."   
"Ship?" he echoed, as if he couldn't understand the word, looking bewildered. "How did I get here?"   
"That's what I'd like to know too, Mister. I didn't find any ID on you. Either you didn't carry any or it was washed out of your pockets when you fell into the water."   
"Fell ....?" He leaned back against the cabin's wall, still keeping the blanket wrapped tightly around himself.   
She smiled to herself. He seemed a bit shy.   
"I.... I remember someone attacking me," he finally said, wonder in his voice. "It was...." He frowned. "I don't why... Hitting my head...."   
"Someone attacked you?" Her voice rose a bit.   
He nodded.   
"Listen, I'll get you to a doctor and he'll take a look at your head. Then you can go and see the police about this. This is all that concerns me." She tried to put on a hard, decisive expression.   
He touched his head again, fingering the bandage she had put on the injury. "I'm sorry for troubling you with all of this," the dark-haired stranger said softly, truly meaning it.   
Susan felt something inside of her melt as she looked at him. He looked downcast, stricken that he was the source of her trouble. It touched a protective streak inside of her. Add to that fact that he was rather handsome, it all worked together to crack her shields.   
"Forget it," she said gruffly, then smiled. "When I've secured the ship, we'll get a bite to eat for breakfast at Ben's. You look like you need something. You think you can make it there on your own two feet?"   
The man nodded, then looked at the blanket. "My clothes ....?"   
Susan smiled and gestured to a small oven just beside the door to the deck. She had hung his clothes there to dry.   
"Did you ....?" he asked, gesturing at himself.   
She nodded. "I'm the only one on this ship. And don't worry. I was married for over 25 years. I know what a male human body looks like."   
He blushed slightly. "Oh," was all he said. Then he climbed out of the bunk, blanket still clutched to his body, and got his clothes. As she turned, he gave her a look.   
"Okay, okay," she muttered and turned around again as he started to dress.   
When he was done he came over to her and looked out of the windshield, studying the sight that presented itself to him. There were various small sport's boats and a lot of small trawlers anchored all around them. A lot of boats and ships were getting ready to get out on the lake to earn their living.   
The man searched through his pockets and came up with a pack of playing cards. He frowned at the soggy, white paper.   
"I don't think I've got more on me than that," he said slowly.   
"Don't worry. I've got an account with Ben and he still owes me enough to pay a breakfast for two." She smiled. "By the way, my name's Susan McNeil. Don't call me Sue or Suzy if you want to survive this trip all the way to the harbor," she added with some humor.   
The man stared at her with a lost expression.   
"I just introduced myself," she said patiently. "Wherever you come from, it's good manners to tell someone your name so you can be properly addressed." She raised an expectant eyebrow.   
He stared through the window, confusion written plainly all over his pale face.   
"I'd like to know how you're called," Susan pressed on.   
"I'm ...." He frowned again. "My name....." There was fear spreading over his features and a mixture of horror and panic flickered in his eyes. "I don't know my name," he finally whispered, staring at her as if he could will her to tell him who he was.   
"You don't know your name?" Susan asked, a bit surprised. That was something she hadn't expected.   
He nodded, the fear still keeping hold of him. "I can't remember," he then said slowly. "I just can't remember."

* * *

"What the hell happened there, Vega?"   
The roar of anger echoed through the office of Captain Friedrichs, ringing in the only visitor's ears. Everyone in the squad room ducked their heads between their shoulders, as if the wave of anger was a physical apparition and could hit them, too, instead of the officer in question.   
"I get a call from senator Dobbs about an explosion at the piers! Some kind of insurance insists we need to file a report with *them*, so they can pay for the damage Cooper suffered! Cooper! Wherever I turn, this... man... keeps interfering with daily procedures! Now I hear he might have been either killed in the explosion or is missing!"   
Vega rubbed his eyes, wishing he could think clearly. He had a bad, sleepless night behind him, a night filled with nightmares about Ace falling through the window. He had woken from the last nightmare at four, unable to return to sleep. After a long, but not very refreshing shower and no breakfast at all, except for a candy bar and a cup of coffee, Vega had come to the precinct. His stomach was queasy, the candy bar digesting not at all, and there was a whole tribe of dwarfs digging for gold inside his head.   
He had taken a couple of aspirins to dim the pain throbbing behind his eyes, but it hadn't really helped. He felt sore from the fall he had taken in the warehouse, there was an uncomplimentary bruise forming on his forehead and his brain seemed to have swollen in size, judging from the pressure he felt inside his head. The worry about Ace added to the splitting headache and soreness made him irritable and likely to snap at whoever was unlucky enough to cross his paths. Ms LeSage had already felt his mood when she had asked about the magician. He had apologized a few minutes later, but he still felt bad.   
And he still hadn't told Cosmo. He and Zelda were out of town, and Ace had told him that Cosmo wouldn't be back until next week.   
Vega pulled himself together and faced Friedrichs. The captain had called him into his office the moment Vega had walked into the squad room. Now he was sitting in his chair, leaning forward to watch his lieutenant closely.   
"It was Faceless, Sir."   
"Faceless?" Friedrichs exclaimed. "That's one of you usual excuses, right? Faceless doesn't exist!"   
Dream on, Vega thought. Friedrichs liked to deny the existence of any criminal he couldn't actually catch, as well as blame completely innocent people for crimes they didn't commit, just so he wouldn't have the trouble of dealing with complications. Ace was a favored target, which the magician took with amused grace, as Vega had to confess.   
"All of a sudden she tries to take you out? With a grenade?" the captain sneered. "Laughable! It's more likely that one of Cooper's machines blew up!"   
Vega sighed. "I don't think so, Sir. I was present. It was Faceless."   
"I want a detailed report of what happened on the quay, Vega. There's a horde of reporters terrorizing my phone and it won't be long until they show up in person, so I want something I can tell them!" Friedrichs ordered angrily.   
"Yes, sir."   
Vega left the office of his captain and walked back to his own where Ms LeSage was working on some files. She looked up, a worried expression on her face.   
"Any sign of Mr. Cooper?"   
Vega tiredly shook his head. "The divers searched the whole quay area. The currents are not strong enough to carry a body any further. Right now we're looking for him along the quay. Maybe he swam to the shore and is now wandering around the harbor area." A feeble hope, he knew. Why hadn't Ace called when he had come out of the water?   
"Oh," she said quietly.   
A grim expression settled on Vega's face as he walked to his desk, ignoring the glances the other officers shot him. He'd find that son of a bitch who had attacked them and he'd arrest him. And he'd find Ace. The magician was alive. He felt it. He firmly believed in it. He wouldn't allow anything else to surface in his mind.

* * *

Susan McNeil had stopped the Magic 4 right along the small quay and turned off the engine. As she walked over to the rear, she discovered that her nameless guest was working on getting the anchor rope fastened.   
"Hey, that looks quite good," she told him.   
He straightened and smiled a bit.   
"How's your head?" Susan wanted to know.   
He rubbed his forehead gingerly. "It's empty inside and hurts outside," he answered with a rueful smile. She found it to be quite charming.   
His whole manner was charming and polite. Now that he had cleaned his face, she saw that she had not been mistaken; he *did* look good! The white stripe and the white streaks at his temples, meeting at the back of his head, added to the looks. She wondered if he had colored his hair or if this was a natural, freakish flaw.   
"Where are we?"   
His question drew her out of her musings. "Lighthouse Cove. Small, cozy, no tourists." She returned the smile.   
"I can't remember if I know it," he said, looking at the harbor. "I'm just glad you came by to pick me up wherever I was when you did it."   
"We'll find out," she said and motioned him to follow. "But if you'd been here before, I think you'd remember. Especially if you paid us a visit in winter. It's like frozen hell here. The lake is packed with ice and we have hellish snowstorms some years."   
There was suddenly a very faraway look in the blue eyes of the stranger. He looked like his mind was somewhere else, and his eyes were fixed on the prow of the boat where it name, Magic 4, was painted in bright colors.   
"Hey? Hey!" She touched his arm.

_Fireworks exploded from his fingertips._   
_Sharp-edged cards flew toward a faceless stranger._   
_Someone yelled._   
_Shots echoed around him and he ducked. A shot whined past._

"Hey? Hey!" His rescuer, Susan McNeil, touched his arm, shaking him a bit. "Are you all right?"   
He turned to her, not knowing what had just happened. "I .... I seem to remember something," he said slowly, touching his head.   
He tried to catch the memory, but there was only emptiness inside his mind. The images were gone. Just fleeting pictures of a memory. His past life? But what did it mean? He didn't know.   
"I think we should get you over to Dr. Jackson, then maybe grab a bite to eat."   
He nodded and followed her off the boat.

* * *

It was a beautiful spot and almost unknown to the general public, mainly because it was privately owned land and the access was restricted. Not that it was easy to find the small, winding road to the large lodge anyway. The whole place was surrounded by thick woods and had been erected on a high cliff. The lookout was breath-takingly wild. A young man, maybe seventeen or eighteen sat on the row of large boulders and stared out over the sea. It was a nice day, warm and sunny, slightly windy, and very quiet. In the distance sports boats could be seen as tiny specks against the sapphire blue water and somewhere sea gulls cried. He knew the owner of this place. Actually, he was sitting right next to her.   
Cosmo smiled at the dark-haired, slender woman. "This is one great place, Zelda!"   
She laughed. "I'm glad a city boy like you likes it."   
"City boy? I hope that was a compliment!"   
She laughed more. "I thought you'd wither and wrinkle out here in the sun. No computers, no high tech, just nature."   
Cosmo leaned back, arms crossed behind his head. He gazed sleepily at the sky. "This is really great! Thanks for asking me along."   
Zelda lay down beside him. "You are welcome."

* * *

"Your pupils are equal, the wound looks fine." The middle-aged man with the curly, dark hair looked at his patient as he shoved his glasses further up his nose. "You've been very lucky. Whatever hit your head -- and I guess it was something smooth but hard -- didn't do any more damage than lacerate your skin and give you one heck of a headache. I guess you have a concussion. Could have been worse."   
He nodded carefully. "I know."   
"The cold water stopped the bleeding nearly right away, though it looks like it started again when you moved, judging from what Susan told me. But I think you can compensate for the blood loss with drinking a lot of liquids, but no alcohol."   
"I understand."   
Dr. Julian Jackson gave his patient a scrutinizing look. "How bad is the headache?"   
"It's getting better, but it's still bothersome."   
The doctor nodded. "Mild concussion indeed. Should be gone in a coupla days. I'll prescribe a mild painkiller. If you experience nausea or dizziness, come back to see me right away."   
"Thank you, Dr. Jackson."   
"What about the amnesia, Julian?" Susan asked. She sat on one of the visitor chairs, watching the two.   
Jackson rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It's been known to happen. It doesn't even need a hard bump or a bad concussion to trigger memory loss. Judging from what you told me -- finding him on your boat, all wet and confused -- it could be shock together with the concussion that is responsible for the memory loss."   
"And it'll pass?" she asked.   
Jackson gave the stranger an encouraging smile. "You said you were getting back some memories?"   
He nodded.   
"Then it looks like it's only temporary. Your mind is already struggling to return what was lost. It's not a bad case of amnesia anyway."   
"But he doesn't know who he is!" Susan protested. "That's what you call not bad?"   
"He knows how to speak, how to walk, how to count. He knows he's human, he knows the difference between male and female. Do you want me to go on?" He raised an amused eyebrow.   
Susan smiled. "No. I get the picture."   
"The best treatment for an amnesia is to confront the patient with things he knows. In your case, that's difficult, because we don't know anything about you. But the memory flashes you had where triggered by something, I believe."   
Another nod.   
"Good. Just relax, don't force anything to come back."   
Susan turned to her guest, who was listening attentively to the physician. "Let's go, Stranger," she said with a broad smile. "We still need to go to the police."   
He nodded. "Thank you for your help, Dr. Jackson," he turned to the curly-haired man.   
"My pleasure. "   
"Thanks, Julian." Susan waved a good-bye. Then they left.

* * *

The car sped along the lake shore street. Spade was driving, careful not go past the speed limit, but also intent on reaching their destination as fast as possible.   
"Lighthouse Cove," Diamond said, reading the information from his computer screen. "Small town 60 miles north of Electro City."   
"We'll arrive in about an hour," Spade guessed as he passed through yet another small town. There were boats anchored in its harbor, some just leaving. It was still early.   
"I hope this information is correct," Diamond muttered. "I hate going on a wild goose chase."   
They had managed to find a trace of Faceless through pure luck. She had used an old contact of hers to trace a small ship, a former trawler, which had been an interesting fact in itself. Spade had 'convinced' the man that they needed the information as well and now they had a new destination: Lighthouse Cove, a crappy little town, in Diamond's opinion. He was a big city boy. He had been born and raised in Electro City, he knew every little street and all the hiding places; he knew it inside out. Leaving his city was like leaving civilization. Out here there was less of what he was used to, there was none of the order he was adapted to, and here no one knew who Blackjack was, which meant just mentioning who he worked for wouldn't open any doors or get him the wanted information.   
He hated this trip already. Damn Faceless for her little stunt!   
"Maybe Cooper's already dead," Spade muttered and accelerated as they left the town. "Could be he drowned and his body was washed out into the lake."   
"Blackjack will believe that when he sees his body." Diamond's lips became a thin, white line. "Why would Faceless try and find some small trawler and then leave Electro City to come here? She is a big city thief. She wouldn't leave her territory for nothing."   
And neither would we, he added sourly to himself, watching the landscape fly by.

* * *

Ben's Place was a small, but nice breakfast and coffee bar, serving warm lunch or sandwiches for dinner, too. Susan was greeted by the stocky, gray-haired owner, Ben, and then shooed her protégé over to a table close to the window.   
"Same as always?" Ben asked, drying his hands on his apron.   
"Yes." She turned to him. "What do you want? Pancakes? Toast? Eggs and ham?"   
He frowned, trying to remember if there was something he preferred for breakfast. When nothing came up his mind, he shrugged. "Sounds all good to me." He tried a smile on her and she smiled back.   
"Okay, I'd recommend the pancakes. Ben's are marvelous!"   
He nodded.   
"Ben?" she called.   
"Gotcha. Pancakes and coffee." There was a smile on his face.   
"What did you remember back there?" she asked when Ben had brought the coffee.   
He shrugged. "I'm not sure."   
She watched him and he looked into the tea pot, trying to recall anything of what he had remembered. Nothing.   
"Okay, forget it," she said. "We'll find a way to get you back your memories."   
He eyed her, for the first time really looking at her. Susan McNeil appeared to be in her late forties, with a lean figure. She had short brown hair, which was mostly gray now. There were a lot of laugh lines around her lively brown eyes and her mouth. She was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt and a thick jacket. Judging from her sun tanned face, she spent a lot of time outside or at sea.   
"What are you thinking?" she asked, startling him out of his thoughts.   
"I don't want to be impolite, but you don't look like a fisherman," he said.   
She chuckled. "No, I'm not a fisherman. My husband owned a trawler, but he wasn't fishing either. He only repaired them. When he died, I inherited the shop, but since I'm not talented when it comes to tech stuff, I sold the shop to his assistant. Now I'm doing small services for those in the community, who can't go to Electro City for one or another reason."

_A large arena, crowded with people._   
_Light effects, smoke and mirrors, glass and explosions._   
_A train._   
_A black cat jumped at him._   
_A car sped through the street, getting between him and -- the police?_   
_"Get in!" someone called._

"Hey? Anybody home?" Someone snapped fingers in front of his face. He blinked.   
"Pardon?"   
"Where were you?" Susan asked.   
"I .... something I remembered."   
She raised an expectant eyebrow. "And?"   
He shook his head. "It's all so strange. Just fragments." He frowned, brushing through his short, dark hair. "Shots."   
"Shots?" she echoed? "Like: from a gun?"   
He nodded, a puzzled look in his eyes. "Why would I remember shots?" he asked her.   
The older woman shrugged. "I don't know. It's your memory. It belongs to something that happened to you. Could it be that you remember what happened to you before you fell into the water?"   
"No," he decided quite firmly. "There was a car. I was in a street." He tried to drag more of the memory out of the nothingness in his brain. There was no more.   
"That's not much. Do you know where this street is? Which city?"   
He was silent for a few seconds, thinking. "A large city. I remember an arena. A show."   
That was the moment Ben arrived with the breakfast. He placed a platter stacked with pancakes in front of him. Susan's breakfast was ham and eggs, sausages and toast.   
"Thank you, Ben," he said politely.   
"Hey, you're welcome." He raised an eyebrow at Susan. "Who's your friend?"   
"Wish I knew. He's got amnesia," she replied honestly.   
Ben eyed him closely, looking at the bandaged injury. "Banged your head, huh? Bad. Ruthie fell down the ladder once and hit her head on the floor. Forgot what she had done mere hours before then." He gave him an encouraging grin. "But she was fine the next day. Just a bump, really. Go and see Doc Jackson."   
"We will," Susan said.   
Ben nodded and returned to his work.   
She smiled. "Ben's a nice man. Helped me through my loss of Zach."   
He nodded, not knowing what to say, chewing the pancakes, which were really fabulous.   
"Okay," Susan went on. "So you are from a big city. I was in Electro City yesterday. Are you from Electro City?"   
He thought hard. "I don't know."

_FLASH_   
_A room, a large room._   
_Someone laughing._   
_A large, black cat._   
_He shook his head._   
_FLASH_   
_A train._   
_A female voice talking, something floating through the room, something sparkly....._   
_FLASH_   
_Someone attacking him._   
_Pain exploded in his head and then there was nothingness._

He winced and sighed. "I'm sorry, but I don't think this helps, Mrs. McNeil," he confessed. "I have only glimpses of what happened in my past, nothing more."   
"Susan," she said. "Call me Susan. And I'm pretty sure we'll find out where you came from. Maybe somebody reported you missing already."   
He only nodded. Maybe.

* * *

"I think you should freshen up before we go anywhere official," Susan told him, looking meaningfully at the blood smeared shirt.   
He looked down. There were some dark stains on his left side. "Oh."

_Someone shot at him. He dove away, flinging out his hands as if to ward something off._   
_Energy exploding, a tingly feeling._   
_Someone stood above him, smiling cruelly. His vision blurred._   
_Poison._   
_A woman injuring him with a spear._   
_Knives._   
_Poison darts._   
_ Gun shots._

He blinked and the images vanished.   
"Another memory?" Susan asked.   
He nodded. "Another strange one."   
"Care to tell?"   
He shrugged. "There was a woman. And a man with a gun. He aimed it at me. It's all so confusing." He looked at her as if she could explain this to him.   
"Sounds confusing. Come on. Let's get you cleaned up. Then we can talk to the police. They can get in contact with the Electro City Police Department. Maybe they have a missing person report on you."   
"Maybe."   
She smiled. "Cheer up. We'll find out who you really are, my friend. Until then: I need to call you something. Any suggestions?"   
He frowned a bit. "I don't know. I can't think of a name, least of all my own."   
"Then we'll make one up. How about John? Joe? Steve? Ben? Peter? Bill? Derek?"   
"Derek?"   
Derek. The name struck a cord. It sounded familiar, but it wasn't him. Not really. Somebody else.......   
"Sound familiar?" she asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.   
"I don't know," he said slowly. "A bit. But it doesn't sound like me."   
"Maybe it's someone you know. A friend? Brother?"   
"Not a brother," he said firmly, sounding very positive that he had no brother with the name of Derek.   
Susan nodded. "Then a friend?"   
"Maybe."   
A face. He tried to focus on it. The image was gone as quick as it had come.   
"I don't know." He rubbed his head, willing the contents of his mind to spill out something. A face. A picture. A name.   
"We'll worry about that later. How about I call you 'Mark' for the time being? My nephew is called Mark."   
He shrugged. "Sounds as good as anything.   
Mark...... Didn't ring a single bell. He was no 'Mark'. But who was he? He wasn't a Derek either. He couldn't attach a name to himself.   
A phone number.   
Out of a sudden thought he went over to a phone booth, picking up the receiver.   
"Who you gonna call?" Susan asked, a bit puzzled by Mark's behavior.   
"There's a number," he said slowly, punching in the numbers one after another. "I just remembered a phone number."   
"Of your friend? Family?"   
He shrugged, unable to tell. The phone rang and suddenly someone picked it up. "Yes?" a male voice asked, sounding tired and a bit discouraged.   
His memory swamped him there for a second. He clutched the receiver, his knuckles white. Like a tape run in fast forward pictures assaulted his mind. A name stayed.   
"Derek?" he blurted.   
There was an intake of breath on the other end of the phone line. "Ace?" the male voice asked in disbelief. "Ace? Is that you? Where are you? Talk to me?" The voice sounded urgent, shaking a bit.   
"Hey!"   
He turned, receiver still clutched in his hand. There was a broad-shouldered, dark-haired man standing only a few feet away from him. He had a flat face, looking like a boxer's who had had a fight too many, the nose slightly squashed. His chin was broad, the eyes small and narrow. He was dressed in a black-and-red checkered jacket and white pants.   
He stared at the man, while the man on the other side of the phone line still yelled 'Ace? Where are you?'.   
"You know him?" Susan asked.   
"You know me?" 'Mark' asked simultaneously.   
"You don't remember me?" the stranger asked.   
"He's got amnesia," Susan explained quickly.   
"Oh." A small smile spread over the stranger's lips. "Yes, we know each other. In fact, I'm your best friend, Ace."   
My best friend. Somehow, it sounded wrong, but he couldn't say why. My best friend. No. Something's terribly wrong.   
The face of his 'best friend' just didn't connect with what his mind tried to tell him. He noticed he was still holding the receiver of the pay-phone and the man on the other end was still screaming.   
"Ace? Damnit, Cooper, answer me! Are you still there? Where are you?

_"Ace!"_   
_A red-headed teenager waved excitedly._   
_FLASH!_   
_"Hey, Ace!"_   
_A tall, white-haired man._   
_FLASH!_

The stranger raised an eyebrow. "I've come to take you back," he added.   
"Something is wrong here," 'Mark' muttered, frowning.   
"Suit yourself," the stranger said and he reached inside his jacket, pulling out a gun.   
Susan gasped slightly and 'Mark' let go of the receiver, which was still crying out to him with the voice of the other man.   
"Let's go," the man said and motioned with the gun.   
Both started to walk. 'Mark' pushed Susan in front of him, getting himself between the gun and her.   
"What do you want from me?" He asked. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"   
"Shut up and walk!"   
They did.   
'Mark's' mind was working on overtime and he searched the quay street for a way out. He looked at a pair of small boats, standing on a pole, left there to dry from the new paint that had been applied to them. His mind formed a plan. A tingle spread through his whole body, a familiar feeling, an exhilaration he had felt before.   
He could....   
Something.....   
Powerful....   
The second they passed by the first of the two boats he suddenly whipped out his left arm and something sparkly, some kind of energy, shot toward the supporting pole, which fell away. The unsuspecting man with the gun gave a surprised yell as the boat fell on him. His two former hostages lost no second and started to run, Susan taking the lead. They heard cursing and yelling from behind them, where the armed man tried to lift the heavy boat off. 'Mark' stared at his right hand, the tingling feeling still coursing through him.   
He had done something like this before.

_A large arena._   
_Special effects, lights, explosions, fire._   
_Applause._   
_FLASH!_

Suddenly a thought struck him.   
"Could that have been the police?" he asked as they ran along the quay street, Susan still leading the way.   
"No," she answered firmly. "He would have identified himself as police. And I know all the policemen here. It's quite a small town."   
"Maybe he wasn't from here."   
"I don't think he was police. What would the police want from you?" she asked.   
"I'm not sure."   
"And what did you do back there?"   
"I'm not sure about that either."   
Susan stopped when she had arrived in a narrow street.   
"Where are we?" 'Mark' asked, not as much out of breath as she was.   
It was still very peaceful all around him. Most of the town's people were out on the lake, fishing or whatever they else did for a living here. Susan gestured at a small house close by.   
"My home," she explained, still catching her breath.   
"Ah." He looked at it. It was small, but looked well-kept. There was a garden in front of it, circling to the left and disappearing behind the house. It looked a bit wild and unkempt. Trees cast shadows along the garden, tall grass was moving in the gentle morning wind. Vines were covering parts of the small fence around the garden and ivy had begun to cover the front of the building. It was beautiful to look at, though it would soon need a hand.   
"Don't look too closely," the woman advised with a smile. "I've never been much of a gardener. It was Zach's hobby." There was a sad expression crossing her face for just a second, then she cheered up almost immediately. "Come in."   
He hesitated, stopping in front of the wooden, green front door. "Susan, I'm grateful for your help, but I don't want to get you in any more trouble."   
She scowled at him. "I'm a grown-up woman, Mark. I can decide which trouble I want to be in and which not. And I want to know what the heck you did back there. Now come in."   
He shrugged and followed her inside.   


Her house was quite small, with a large living room, a small but well-equipped kitchen and two more rooms, which were the bed-room and a bathroom. She and Zach had bought the house shortly after they had married. It had been a ruin then and both had worked quite hard to make it the cozy little house it now was. The garden had been her husbands She steered her guest into the large living room.   
"Who do you think was that man?" she finally asked.   
"I don't know. Then again, that's nothing new." He gave her a rueful look.   
"He didn't appear to be too friendly, for the fact he claimed to be your best friend."   
"So I noticed."   
She inhaled deeply, trying to get herself together. "Okay, let's do one thing after another. First we get you freshened up, then we call the police." She raised an eyebrow. "Sit down and get that shirt off," she told him.   
"Excuse me?"   
He gave her such a bewildered look, she had to laugh.   
"Aw, come on! I'm approaching the big five-oh! From the looks of it you could be my son!" She grinned. "Well, if I had hurried up anyway. I'm not the kind of voyeurous woman who's after every male body she can get. Besides, I know how you look already. I had to undress you on the Magic 4, lest I let you catch pneumonia." She gave him a mock leer and he smiled a bit, beginning to undress -- at least above the waist line.   
Susan took the stained shirt and went over to the bathroom, putting it into the sink, together with a lot of washing powder. Starting the washing machine for a single shirt was no use. Then she went to the bedroom and rummaged through her closet. She found one of Zach's old shirts and went back into the living room.   
"Here you go. This was Zach's. I know it doesn't look like much and it's a bit oversized for you, but it'll be better than getting arrested for exhibition." She grinned broadly as she handed over the shirt.   
"Exhibition? But I'm not completely naked," he protested, but taking it.   
She raised her eyebrows. "If you walk around here with only your pants on, the young ladies in town won't take long to rid you of that."   
"Oh."   
She burst out laughing at his bewildered expression. "You're really not from around here. Where are you from?"   
He shrugged. "Wish I knew."

_Someone talked to him, a tall, dark-haired man with a mustache. He called him a member of the family and he wanted him to break into a building._   
_Sure, no sweat. He could do that with no problem at all._   
_Someone else stood beside him, older as him as well, giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder._   
_Gus.... his name was Gus...._   
_FLASH!_   
_He was chased._   
_Shots followed him and zinged off the metal floor. Someone was at his side, but it wasn't Gus. He flung out his hands, energy coursing through him. Energy exploded from his fingertips....._

"Another memory?" Susan asked as if she had recognized the signs.   
"Yes. I always see myself getting shot at. And there's someone else."   
"A friend? A partner?"   
He looked helplessly at her. "I can't say, Susan. I just can't say. Every time I try to grab the image, it dissolves."   
"Come on, take a shower and try to relax for just a second. Don't force it. You know what the doc said. You're welcome to use the bathroom. If you want to shower, I can get you a towel." At his look she added: "I swear I won't peek."

* * *

"What?!"   
A chair cluttered to the ground and Cosmo stared at the TV screen like he had just heard about aliens landing on Earth. He had switched through the news channels and had accidentally went past SensaNews when he had heard it.   
Ace Cooper was missing, presumed either dead or seriously injured. There had been pictures of a burned warehouse, of police searching the lake, and Vega warding of interviews.   
"I have to go back!" he whispered.   
Zelda nodded, already reaching for her helmet. "I'll come with you."   
Cosmo didn't lose a second. They were both on their way barely a minute later.

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking?" Diamond exploded.   
"You said to get him," Spade shot back hotly. "I tried just that."   
"And lost him."   
"We can find him again."   
"And then what? The woman might have already informed the police because you had to mess it up."   
Spade's face held a dangerous expression. "I followed orders. Pure and simple! B'sides, Cooper doesn't know a thing anymore. Didn't even recognize me."   
"What's that supposed to mean?" Diamond asked, trying to calm down.   
This was getting worse and worse. They were in a crappy little town with none of the amenities he was used to. Spade had just blundered into Cooper and had lost him again through his usual stupidity. And Blackjack expected them to report in soon. He hated this day!   
"He's got amnesia. Doesn't know who he is or how he got here."   
There was suddenly a very calculating look on Diamond's face. "Amnesia, huh?"   
"But he called someone," Spade added.   
"Who?"   
"Don't know. Maybe Vega, maybe his pain-in-the-butt sidekick. But even if he did, he didn't get far. I cut him off." He didn't mention that he hadn't hung up the phone.   
Diamond stared out of the window of the car, contemplating what to do next.   
"We know where the woman lives," Spade said as if to remind him. "And I could go there and shoot him."   
"And bring the whole town down on us?"   
"Got any other ideas? The boss wants him gone and we are getting the job done; once and for all."   
Diamond drummed his fingers on the wheel. Yes, simple plan. Still, he kept reminding himself that Faceless was still out there as well, looking for her target. She wouldn't take well to them interfering again. They had once given Cooper the chance to break free of her trap. She was another variable to take into consideration, a dangerous variable that was on neither side.   
"Let's go," he finally decided.

* * *

"We've got it!" One of the surveillance experts of the precinct gave a slip of paper to Vega. "It was a public phone in Lighthouse Cove."   
Vega, his headache still throbbing dully behind his eyes, glanced at the paper, balancing his styrofoam cup of coffee in the other hand. "Lighthouse Cove? Where the heck is Lighthouse Cove?"   
"About 60 miles north of here. Small fishing town."   
The lieutenant frowned a bit. How had Ace gotten to Lighthouse Cove? After he had called -- and he was sure it had been Ace; he had recognized the voice -- and had not terminated the call, the precinct's specialists had been able to trace the call. To Lighthouse Cove.   
"Well?"   
The voice made him flinch and he looked up. Friedrichs stood before him, looking expectant.   
"Looks like he's in Lighthouse Cove, sir," he said. "Alive."   
His superior frowned, just like he had done so. "Small town," he then said. "How did he get there?"   
"I don't know. But I intend to find out."   
He had been shot in the warehouse.   
He had fallen into the lake.   
Now he was in Lighthouse Cove through only God knew which means.   
Vega remembered the slightly confused and hesitant voice over the phone. It hadn't really sounded like the Ace Cooper he knew. The voice was the same, but .... Ace rarely displayed such hesitation. Something was wrong, Vega decided. Something must have happened.   
He left the precinct, climbed into his car and minutes later was on his way to Lighthouse Cove exceeding the speed limit by ways.

* * *

Susan had given him a large towel, and after he had taken a hot shower, he felt a lot better. Now he toweled himself off, looking into the mirror, studying his reflection. A pale face with the shadow of a beard looked back. A normal face. Nothing extraordinary. A face in the crowd. But then there was his hair. He touched the white lock on his forehead, pulling it down. Then he ran fingers carefully over the white streaks on his temples. That wasn't normal. And it didn't look dyed.

_A woman's face, old, but not elderly, kind, brown eyes regarding him._   
_The tingly feeling again, the power._   
_He was flying._   
_Matter briefly transformed._   
_A ring of fire, a black cat, a red-haired kid....._   
_FLASH!_   
_He felt pain explode in his head. He broke through a window and hit the surface of the water down below. A ship passed through his line of view._   
_FLASH!_   
_A faceless woman laughing at him, talons trying to take his face off._   
_Everything hurt and the world blurred around him. The lights around him went out, fading, turning into a small dot, then nothingness._

He blinked and turned away from the mirror, drying his hair.   
"If you're looking for a shaver, try the drawer," Susan called from outside the bathroom.   
He looked into the drawer and found the shaver. "Thank you," he called back and began to shave.   
When he was finished he entered the living room he discovered that Susan had changed, too. She smiled at him as he exited the bathroom.   
"Feel better?"   
"Cleaner," he confessed.   
She eyed him closely. "Well, you are looking good, I have to confess. Any more memories?"   
He shook his head and sat down on the couch. "No. It's all so strange."   
"What?"   
"Every time I have a memory flash, it has something to do with ..... violence. Someone is shooting. There are cars speeding through alleys and streets. Explosion. Large cats...."   
"Large cats?" the woman echoed. "What do cats have to do with it?"   
He shrugged. "Listen, I don't know who I am, but I could be a criminal for all we know. Every time I see a flash of my memory it's something violent. Guns, explosions, fire..... I could be dangerous."   
Susan looked at him with a strange look in her eyes. "Maybe," she said slowly. "But I don't think so. Even if you are, we have to take the risk. You can't go around without the most important part of knowledge in your life: your identity."   
He looked at her, helpless and confused.   
"The man you called, who was it?" she asked.   
"I'm not sure. I remembered the number, but I ...." He stopped. "He called me a name... Ace...."   
"Is that your name?"   
Ace. It didn't ring a bell, but it sounded more familiar than 'Mark'.   
'Ace? Damnit, Cooper, answer me! Are you still there? Where are you?' The voice of the man he had called echoed through the emptiness in his mind. A face tried to surface, but disappeared into nothingness again.   
"Maybe."   
"Strange name. Maybe a nick name?"   
He shrugged and stood again, walking over to the phone that was sitting on top of a table. The number he had dialed came back and he was tempted to try and call again. He rested one hand on the device. Maybe he should call. He shook his head and turned back to Susan.   
"What about that.... thing you did back at the quay?" she asked, watching him closely.   
"I wish I knew what it was. I just... did it. It came to me. I knew how to do it and .... did it." He screwed his eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Susan, I wish I knew what is happening, but I have no idea!"   
She walked over to him, smiling gently. "We'll find out. And we'll find out what kind of magic you pulled off back there."   
"Magic?" he asked, staring at her with wide eyes.   
"What is it?"   
"I.... it's..." He stared at his hands. The tingling was back and he could feel something course through him. "Magic," he whispered.   
"Which won't do you any good, Cooper!" a voice startled them both.   
They whirled around and his eyes went wide as he discovered a masked, costumed figure crouching on the kitchen table. There was a menacing glow in the optic-like red eyes.   
"You just can't die, right?" the woman hissed. "But this time, I'll make certain of it!"   
"What... who....?"   
She reached behind her and then flung out her hands. Something purplish and small raced toward him. What happened next was like a blur for him. He reacted to the threat and something happened within him. Ace, yes, he remembered his name, counter-attacked and a stack of white cards intercepted the course of the shuriken. They clashed in a shower of sparks and he heard the woman scream in anger. He didn't wait for her to attack again; he grabbed Susan and shoved her out of the door.   
"Run!"   
"You can't run, Cooper!" their attacker called. "Face me like a man!"   
They burst out of the door and Susan gave a cry of surprise. The man who had threatened them at the quay, as well as another man they didn't know, were just getting out of a car. When they discovered them, they drew their weapons.   
Ace was drawn between total panic and total calm. Something inside him told him that those two were the least of their problems. The woman attacking them was the bigger one. Like in a dream he made a gesture with his hands and suddenly the guns the two men were holding flew out of their grips, twirling playfully around them, then vanished in a shower of .... rose petals? Another gesture let the petals melt together, forming a rope, which quickly and like handled by invisible hands, bound the two.   
Susan stared, but he simply grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. Behind them, the faceless woman burst out of the house.   
"You!" she cried. "Not again! Idiots!"   
Ace concentrated, still following his instinct. He laid an arm around Susan and pulled her into the shadow of a near-by building, and they vanished from sight.

*

Faceless gave a scream of frustration and anger. Cooper had disappeared from sight! Again! She whirled around, knowing fully well that she had to wait for another chance to get to him. She stalked back to the house of Susan McNeil where he had hidden and flashed furious looks at Spade and Diamond. They were trying to disentangle themselves from their bonds.   
"You idiots!" she raged. "I had him!"   
"It wasn't our fault," Diamond spat.   
She snarled. "Don't get in my way again! He's mine!"   
"No."   
"What did you say?!"   
"No," Diamond repeated, meeting the red, dangerous gaze calmly. "Blackjack ordered him to be killed and I'll make sure we do the killing. You might just blunder again."   
Sharp talons snapped out of her gloves and she held them under his nose. Diamond didn't even blink. "I don't blunder," Faceless whispered. "I am a professional. You were the ones who interfered last time!"   
He smiled humorlessly while Spade struggled with the knife he had ejected from his sleeve, sawing at the bonds. Faceless whirled around and disappeared in the bushes.

* * *

Lighthouse Cove really wasn't much to look at, Derek Vega decided as he parked his car close to the harbor, squinting into the light of the sun. There was one main street, directly at the quay, and a few side roads. The houses were either one or two stories high, mostly old and looking like out of a postcard collection. Fisher nets were hung up to dry all along the quay road. Small boats decorated the spaces between one net and the other. Vega guessed that the few dozen houses was all there was to the little town. No tourist attraction in any way, except maybe for a spectacular sunrise over the lake. He grimaced. Yeah right. Think about such a thing now.   
He had called ahead to the local police station, trying to find out if Ace had popped up somewhere; no one had heard anything about a magician from Electro City, but they had promised to keep an eye and an ear open.   
"Now, where do I start?" Vega muttered.   
Though the town wasn't big, Vega didn't know how long it would take to find Ace. He didn't even know if he was still here. The call and the sudden silence on the other end of the line had frightened him. He decided to walk down the quay road and ask everyone he met.   
He didn't meet many people. The ones he encountered had no idea who he was talking about. Vega stared at the small harbor, at the cluster of ships, willing Ace to be here. He had called from Lighthouse Cove. Surveillance had traced the call and was positive he had called from a public phone of the small town.   
There was a coffee shop and he decided to at least get himself some caffeine to get his brain working.   


Ben Taylor, the owner of the coffee shop, placed a mug of steaming hot coffee in front of Vega.   
"Thanks," the cop muttered. "Listen, maybe you can help me. I'm looking for a friend of mine. He called me from here, but forgot to leave an address where I can pick him up."   
"Someone from Electro City?" Ben asked.   
Vega nodded, then took a sip from his coffee. The stuff was damn good and he wished he could take a barrel of it with him to the precinct. It might increase his odds to survive for the next few weeks. The coffee at the precinct was lethal. He went on to describe Ace.   
Ben frowned. "Haven't seen many new faces around here lately. Susan brought a guy with her. Nice guy. I think he would fit your description. He looked a bit lost and confused. Had a head wound."   
Vega nodded.   
"Oh, and he lost his memory," Ben added as if in an afterthought. "Susan said as much."   
"What?" Vega nearly spilled his coffee. Ace? Lost his memory? What kind of sick joke was that?   
"Yeah, bump on the head or something. Didn't look too bad, but that doesn't tell anything. My Ruthie, that's my wife, didn't even have a large bruise when she hit her head. Nevertheless she lost some time. Susan took your friend over to Doc Jackson."   
"Who's Susan?"   
"Susan McNeil. She said she found him on her trawler." Ben polished the counter.   
"Where does she live?" Vega demanded, setting down the cup.   
"12, St. Catherine's Road. You're a good friend of him?"   
"Yeah, he's a really good friend of mine. Can you tell me how to find her place?"   
After Ben had mapped him a way to St. Catherine's Road Vega left the coffee shop again. Amnesia! Damned! Ace, what are you getting yourself into all the time?

* * *

Ace leaned against the wall, trembling. Whatever he had just done, it had been inside him all the time and it had leaked through. They had merged with the shadows, he and Susan, and the ones chasing him had simply run past. No one had seen him.   
"Hey?"   
He blinked and focused on Susan, who regarded him with worried eyes. "Susan?" he asked, voice rough.   
"Yeah, it's me. What was that? What the heck did you do?!"   
"I don't know," he murmured, staring at his hands.

_Fire flying from his fingers._   
_Energy balls._   
_Sparkly rain._

He bit his lower lip.   
"And who are those people? Why are they after you? They aren't with the police, that much I know, but they are trying to get to you."   
Ace buried his aching head in his hands. "I don't know why, Susan!"   
"Listen, we need to go to the police and tell them!"   
"No!" he exclaimed almost instinctively. "No police! I ... I can't go to the police!"   
"Then I will go and you stay here. Ace, we need help!" Susan squeezed his arm. "Okay?"   
He shivered. No police, his mind kept telling him. No police. They are not your friends! "Susan, no police," he begged.   
"I have to go! They attacked me as well as you, and maybe we can find out who you are, okay?"   
He kept shaking his head.   
"I'm going," Susan insisted. "You stay. Ace, please!"   
"Okay," he whispered.   
She smiled and squeezed his arm again. Then she jogged down the street to the police station of Lighthouse Cove.

* * *

"Damnit, Ace, where are you? Why can't you ever listen to what you are told?!"   
Susan watched the lieutenant as he paced up and down in front of the small shed. Derek Vega was a tall, lean man with completely white hair and dark brown eyes, which were currently full of worry. There was a bruise right on his forehead and he appeared to be nursing a headache, judging from the two aspirins he had popped into his mouth.   
"Stubborn!" Vega growled, slumping back against a wall, for just a minute becoming still, looking at Susan. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, then, as if he had decided otherwise, let his hands fall to his side again and pushed away from the wall. "Do you have any idea where he could have gone to, Mrs. McNeil?"   
She shook her head. She had wondered about the same thing. It wasn't that he knew anyone around here. Susan had come into the police station to find Vega, who was asking for a friend of his. It had been a lucky coincidence. He had listened to her story about an attack on her and a friend by two men and a costumed, masked woman, and he had immediately demanded that she show him the place where Ace was hiding.   
"No. When we were attacked he defended us, though I can't really explain how he did it. It was like some kind of energy... like magic... and then he made us disappear from the naked eye. Afterwards I went to the police. He refused to come along; I think he was afraid. I don't know where he went."   
He ran his hand through his hair and began to pace the living room again. Susan was positive that if he didn't pace he'd burst of nervous energy.   
"Lieutenant Vega?" she asked.   
He looked up. "Yes?" he asked sharply, then catching himself. "Sorry," he muttered, closing his eyes for a second, pinching the bridge of his nose.   
She only smiled. She knew he was worried, could read it from his whole behavior. "Ace," she then said. "Who is he?"   
He sighed, smiling wryly. "Someone who's always in the middle of some big trouble. A very good friend of mine, too. Damnit, wish I knew what had happened."   
"I can't tell you either. He appeared on my boat, he didn't know his own name, and though he is getting back pieces of his memory -- very strange pieces -- he is afraid to contact the police. I think he believes you will arrest him."   
"Arrest him? Heck, Ace is my best friend!"   
"But he forgot most of his past, lieutenant," Susan reminded him. "And he is chased by those strangers."   
Vega rubbed his forehead, wincing. "Okay, Lighthouse Cove isn't that big. He has to be somewhere."   


Three hours later Vega cursed every little street, nook and niche in this fisher town, which wasn't much larger than anyone's back yard in Electro City, but it proved to be hell to search. It was currently like dead, due to the main population out on the lake to haul in the nets or check their lobster grounds, but still.... there were dozens of places for someone to hide. Finally he arrived at what looked like a shipyard outside Lighthouse Cove   
He had paid the town's doctor a visit to talk to him about Ace's condition. Dr. Jackson had readily helped him, relaying the information he had.   
"Your friend has a concussion. It's the result of a rapid flexion-extension of the head and neck, the impact of the brain against the inside of the skull with rotation of the brain. This motion disrupted several areas of the neurological tissue."   
"Ah. Meaning what?"   
"Short term memory loss. Amnesia, as you call. Your friend's brain is concussed and the tissue has to regenerate, let the bruising shrink down to a normal level. Throughout the process he will experience memory flashes, sometimes through simple reminders, sometimes just like that."   
Vega had just sighed and shaken his head. Ace!   
Now he parked his car right next to the gate leading to the yard. Old ships of all kind were piled up here, stacked and rusting. Suddenly discovered a man standing close to a pile of ship parts, looking lost and confused. The man was dressed in faded jeans and an oversized red shirt, wearing a brown leather jacket. There was no mistaking who it was, even if the clothes were totally off.....   
Relief surged through Vega as he came closer, a grin spreading over his face. "Ace!" he called out. "I finally found you!"   
Ace flinched as he heard the voice and staggered back.   
Vega cursed softly. Amnesia. Right! Ace had no idea who he was!   


He had run and couldn't even remember why he had so desperately tried to get away from everything. His head hurt, pounding with each thought, and all he was aware of was the danger he was in. But what danger? Who was the enemy? Susan wasn't; he had told her to stay at home where she would be safe. The other woman.....   
Faceless, a voice whispered in his head.   
He shook his head, blinking.   
A movement caught his eye and he turned. A man walked across the old shipyard, approaching him slowly. Ace frowned. He was familiar, but why?   
The face.   
Familiar.   
He stopped. Why?

_The man held a weapon in his hand, aiming at someone else._   
_Police....._   
_He was shooting._   
_FLASH!_   
_Running. Running away from him._   
_Someone caught him, strong hands holding him back._   
_NO! I didn't do it!_   
_FLASH!_   
_FLASH!_   
_FLASH!_

Ace felt sweat break out on his forehead and he was trembling. There were images of a fight, an explosion, grenade fire swamping over him. His head exploded in memories, violent, colorful memories of his life. And this man was always there. Every time he tried to think clearly, to recall who the new-arrival was, he got flashes of violence.   
He's a cop. He's come to arrest me.   
NO!   


"Hey, Ace," Vega said, a smile on his features, hands outstretched to show he was unarmed.   
Ace stared at him, eyes filled with fear, clearly not recognizing Vega as his friend. "Stay away!" he whispered.   
"Ace, it's me, Derek Vega, your friend."   
He shook his head violently. "No, you want to arrest me!" he whispered, moving back. "But I didn't do it!"   
Vega frowned. "Listen to me.... you hit your head, you have problems with your memory...."   
"No! Lies! You are from the police! You want to arrest me!"   
The lieutenant bit his lower lip. "Ace, we are friends. I didn't come to arrest you, believe me!" He took a step forward and that was his mistake.   
"Lies!" Ace screamed and his hands came up in a gesture Vega recalled having seen before.   
Then he was suddenly slammed back by an invisible force, crashing into the pile of boats behind him. The wind was driven out of his lungs and he saw stars explode in front of his eyes. Vega collapsed, half aware of Ace running off. But right now he couldn't do anything but concentrate on his breathing. His lungs ached, as did his ribs, and his head pounded with a renewed headache. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he rolled around, groaning, his head aching abominably.   
"I should have known," he muttered to himself, wheezing. "He will defend himself. With magic. Damn!"   
There was the high whine of a bike stopping not far away and dust washed over him. He heard footsteps and strong hands helped pull him up.   
"Vega? Man, what's going on? What happened?"   
"Cosmo?" he managed, blinking.   
The red-headed teenager came into focus, his eyes wide, his face pale. He looked harried and worried. "Where's Ace? I heard he was missing!"   
"Wow, slow down." Vega rubbed his head and looked at the place where his friend had been mere minutes ago.   
"Vega, what is going on?" Cosmo demanded again.   
And Vega told him. Slowly, one by one, ignoring Cosmo's exclamations and his accusing expression.   
"He was here?!"   
"Yes. And he nearly took me out. Cosmo, he lost his memory and what he has left or what came back is connected to his past. He thinks of me as the detective who arrested him, but he can't recall we are friends. He doesn't know that he came to me and asked for my help."   
Cosmo's face darkened.   
"And how did you get here anyway?" Vega demanded.   
"Zelda and I heard the news," Cosmo told him, slightly angry. "I came back right away, only to hear that no one had an idea where Ace is. Angel got me the information about this little town."   
"You broke into the police computer?" Vega nearly yelled.   
Cosmo just gave him a smug look. Vega threw up his hands.   
"Hopeless."   
"So, what now?"   
"Now we try to find Ace again and then we need to be careful when talking to him."   
Cosmo frowned. "You mean you need to be careful. I'm his friend and he knows it. I never tried to get him behind bars."   
Vega shot him a dark look and walked off. Cosmo shrugged and followed, his mind feverishly working on how to find Ace.

* * *

Faceless smiled as she watched the scene in the shipyard. So Cooper was amnesiac; he had no clue who was who. Good! Much easier to take him down, even though he seemed to remember some of his powers. She flexed her fingers. It would be a shame to face him if he wasn't even fully himself, but well... never refuse a gift.

* * *

Ace was running. His lungs burned, his head pounded with a vicious headache, and he couldn't think straight anymore. Who was he? What was going on? Why was the police out to get him? He stumbled against a building wall, panting. His vision was swimming and he sank down, head buried in his hands.   
"What is going on?" he moaned.   
Susan.   
She could help him.   
No! No, if he went back to her house she'd be in danger again.   
"There he is!"   
Ace's head came up and his eyes focused on the two men who had attacked them before. They were closing in on his position, guns drawn, their faces set. He scrambled to his feet. Something pulsed through him, just like before, and he felt it take over his thinking, his very being.   
"Go away!" he yelled and felt the power inside of him unleash.   
The two men yelled and batted at the myriad of lights dancing around them. They stumbled back and Ace ran off once more, even more confused, his mind a jumble of thoughts. A gun was fired behind him and plaster rained off a building next to him.   
"Hey, dude, over here!"   
Unable to concentrate he looked helplessly around, then someone grabbed him and he was pulled behind a shed. He stared at the red-headed teenager, drawing a blank when it came to remembering who he was.   
"Who... who are you?" he asked.   
"Man, Vega was right. You have amnesia. I'm Cosmo. You know... best buddy, sidekick, assistant?"   
Ace shook his head. "I...."   
Cosmo gestured him to be silent and pulled him deeper into the shadows. Not far away, the two men rounded a corner, searching for him. They disappeared down a street. Cosmo exhaled.   
"Come on, Ace. Let's go an find Vega and then a doctor."   
"Vega?"   
The cop.   
He wanted to arrest him.   
"No!" Ace pushed away from Cosmo, shaking his head. "You are one of them as well, right? You want to arrest me! I didn't do it! It was self-defense! I didn't kill him!"   
"Ace? What... no! Listen, I'm your friend! Vega is your friend! You lost your memory, but it's the truth!"   
Ace violently shook his head. "Stay away!"   
Cosmo approached and Ace felt the powers inside of him stir.   
Memories flashed.   
The kid.... racing a bike. Manipulating a computer. Helping him....? A show....? He screwed his eyes shut, moaning. The memories pushed into his blank mind with violent force. Cosmo..... Cosmo nearly getting run over by a car. Playing decoy. Helping him out fighting against..... criminals?   
"Ace? Are you okay?"   
He blinked at the boy, trembling. "You are... not a cop?"   
"No! Heck, no!" Cosmo firmly grabbed his upper arms. "Ace, please! We all just want to help you. Susan called help and we are help."   
"Aw, how sweet!" a female voice chuckled.   
Cosmo whirled around and stared at the masked, costumed woman. "Faceless!"   
She laughed. "I thought it would be a challenge, and it was one to find you again, Magician, but let's finish it now. I'm tired of this place."   
Cosmo placed himself between Ace and the thief, fists raised, ready to fight her.   
"You think you can stop me?" she chortled. "Oh, what fun!"   
Faceless darted forward and Cosmo suddenly went flying into the wall. He groaned and slumped to the ground, half unconscious. Faceless turned and looked her victim up and down.   
"Well, Cooper? Any last words?"   
He stared at her, mind burning as every nerve of his being was suddenly rushed with an incredible power. He remembered the power, he recalled it from his past, and he knew how to handle it all of a sudden. The adrenaline rush at seeing Cosmo being attacked purged all the blanks, filled them with memories, and though they were just a wild jumble, he was able to pick out the most important ones.   
"Magic Force," he called out, not really sure what he was doing, "reveal .... the power.... within!"   
A magical storm enveloped him, changing him, accessing the open links he had to the forces around him, and Ace felt like he was suddenly someone else. He felt renewed....   
"No!" Faceless hissed. "You won't!"   
What happened next was just a blur of movements. Ace reacted by instinct, dodging the attacks, parrying her blows, trying to stand his ground, though that was hard in itself. Faceless was a formidable fighter and she pushed him back, landing blows whenever he gave her an opening, and her talons were a dangerous weapon. She had sliced through his costume and had drawn blood, but all injuries were just scratches. Ace fell back another step, mind awhirl. The powers tingled, demanding he use them to defend himself, to rid the world of this danger.   
And then the world exploded into light and sparks. Ace gave a cry of surprise, as did Faceless as something struck her hard in the chest, then she was thrown back with force the Magician exuded. It was a telekinetic shock, something he used from time to time, but with it, a shock was sent through his system as well. Ace breathed hard, hands still outstretched, trembling, his mind flooded more and more by his old memories. He groaned loudly and squeezed his eyes shut, sinking to his knees. His knees were suddenly made of jelly and his muscles trembled so badly, he was unable to support himself. Faceless was gone, but he didn't care. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak, all he could do was kneel there and wait for the rush to stop. Blood was boiling in his veins, his ears were filled with the noise of it, and he thought he was on fire.   
"Ace?" someone groaned. "What.... Ace!"   
He tried to control his breathing. Blinking his eyes open, he looked around. "Cos...mo?"   
Cosmo stumbled into his line of sight, a bruise on his cheek but otherwise looking fine. "Hey, man, are you okay?"   
"I think so. I remember...." He swallowed and briefly closed his eyes again. "The Magic Force...."   
"Yeah, you wiped Faceless off her feet. Geez, what a show!"   
"Thanks," he whispered and got to his feet, aided by Cosmo. He was barely able to stand and Cosmo had a supporting arm around his waist.   
"Easy, man."   
"Ace! What happened? Where's....?" Vega came to a stop and looked around, then his worried eyes fixed on Ace again. "Are you okay?"   
"Perfectly!" Cosmo called. "He's getting his memories back!"   
Ace smiled slightly. "Not all of it yet, but I think I'm getting there. Hi, Vega. Nice to see you -- again. Sorry about the mess."   
Vega's smile broadened. "You are back!" He pulled Cooper into a bear-hug. "I'm glad this is over!"   
Ace gave a wheeze and laughed. "Whoa, easy there!"   
Vega grinned like an idiot and let go. "Come on, let's get out of here."

* * *

"So you're working as a what? Magician?" There was genuine surprise in Susan's voice.   
Ace nodded, smiling.   
She laughed. "I think that's the last thing I'd have expected."   
They were walking along the quay road to Ben's where Cosmo was waiting.   
Now he gave her a quizzical look. "Why?"   
She shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, all your memories. Bullets, explosions and the like. I wouldn't connect that to a showstar." She smiled again. "Especially, if I understood your friend Cosmo correctly, a very well-known and popular one like Ace Cooper."   
Cosmo had been surprised and had feigned hurt when Susan had told him that she had no clue who Ace Cooper was. Lighthouse Cove was a really small community and she rarely read more than the headlines in the newspaper and the occasional article about something important.   
"Well, I'm helping my friend Vega from time to time with a case, so that might account for it. In my free time, I do my shows." He grinned.   
"So you called the right person after all."   
The magician nodded. "Yes." He looked down the road and discovered Cosmo leaning against the Magic Racer.   
"I wanted to thank you for your help once again, Susan," he told her.   
"Hey, no problem. It's not often I have handsome magicians with amnesia dropping in on my boat." She grinned. "You're welcome to visit me once in a while."   
He smiled, too. "Thank you for the invitation. I really might take you up on that offer."   
"Okay, you ready to roll?" Cosmo asked when they arrived at the car.   
"Ready."   
"See you again some time," Susan said, then pulled the much taller man into a hug.   
Ace was a bit surprised at first, then returned the hug.   
"Just in case you come to the City," he then said and made a quick gesture with his hand. "For you." Two tickets had appeared in his hand.   
"Thanks. I'll drop by whenever I have some time," she promised.   
Ace nodded to Cosmo and both got into the car. They drove down the quay road and then onto the highway.

* * *

Ace sat inside the living room of the Magic Express, the lights dimmed to a degree where everything was cast in twilight so deeply that it was hard to make out any forms. The TV screen was on, flashing pictures out of his albums. The harsh screen light gave his features sharp angles and extreme shadowy pools. He didn't move, just sit there, fingers steepled in front of his face, chin resting on his thumbs. The pictures were from a long time ago, a time he wouldn't actually call happier days, but still.... they had been different. He had been at the orphanage, but he had had friends. Like Mona, a girl who had visited often. They had grown into friends and finally into much more. She had been the reason his life had turned all of a sudden, but he had tried never to look back, just forward.   
New pictures appeared and then, after a few more, the screen went dark. Ace didn't move, just stared on. His mind tried to recall more of what had occurred in his past and it was getting easier by the hour. His memory was recovering quickly and all he knew about the Magic Force had returned already. Ace leaned back and briefly closed his eyes. The bruise on his forehead still showed and it was still sensitive to the touch. He would perform tomorrow night's show, but tonight he was just relaxing.   
A soft rumble alerted him to someone's presence and he smiled as Zina walked almost noiselessly into the room and curled up on the floor. Her yellow eyes briefly met his, then she rested her head on her paws. Ace sank deeper into the couch, almost trying to bury into it.   
Memories.   
They were fragile and easily taken.   
He treasured those he had, even the ones that seemed to come out of nightmares.   
Someone entered the room and Ace craned his neck, then sat up. "Mona?"   
The red-haired woman smiled as she stepped into the room. "I hope I'm not disturbing," she said calmly.   
Ace shook his head. "I was just... thinking."   
"Cosmo told me what happened. I also saw the news. How are you?"   
"Better. My memories are coming back. Some are still missing, but it's no longer as bad as before." Ace was about to reach for the lights and turn them up, but Mona shook her head.   
"Leave the lights." She sat down beside him, studying his shadowed face. "I came to offer my help," she then added.   
Ace gave her a smile. "You don't have to, Mona."   
She shook her head, meeting his gentle, grayish blue eyes. "I want to, Ace. You always help me, but I could never repay it in any way."   
"You don't have to, Mona," he repeated.   
Mona looked at her hands. "Ace.... please. I want to. Maybe because it's good for me to... to talk."   
He gazed at her for a long time, then nodded slowly.   


They talked for hours and for the very first time there was no anger, no accusation, no wounds reopened.   



End file.
